


Hypothetical Incarnations

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Mòrag, Brighid, Zeke, and Pandoria talk about Titans.
Relationships: Brighid/Mòrag Ladair
Comments: 15
Kudos: 54





	Hypothetical Incarnations

**Author's Note:**

> "how can i take a serious topic and turn it into a shitpost?" i asked myself
> 
> canon timeline doesn't matter here, don't think too hard about it

From up upon one of the tilted stone spires protruding from Temperantia’s crown, they can see nearly everything across the Titan’s continental wingspan. It’s not much to look at, really— just a bunch of ashen, craggy rocks and a scarred plain dotted with craters and rubble and random monsters roaming the plain.

Zeke points to the Judicium Titan weapon, which still lays inactive where they had deactivated the core. From where they stand, it looks like nothing more than a distant blemish. A blemish with spidery legs and a big fat abdomen far too large for the rest of its body.

“I never realized how _ugly_ that thing is.”

“Did we really come all the way up here for you to tell us that?” Brighid asks, clearly unamused. The climb up wasn’t particularly difficult, but it’s a very, very steep drop down into a deep gorge where a variety of monsters await.

Well, if they could survive falling down into Morytha, they could definitely survive falling into an Antol nest. But that should be nothing to be concerned over. Zeke is wildly gesturing, which means he could very well plummet off the spire anyway.

“No, I wanted to admire the view! Temperantia may be a wrecked husk of a once-flourishing Titan, but you’ve got to admit the view is pretty damn spectacular.”

“We’ve been all over Alrest during our travels, when it was just the two of us,” Pandoria explains. “Uraya, Gormott, Mor Ardain— you name it. But Temperantia’s the one Titan we’ve never been able to set foot on! The idea of making a trip came up a few times, but we could never find a ship willing to bring us out here.”

“I wouldn’t exactly consider this place to be a hot spot for tourism, no.”

“No matter! We’re here now, and now I can safely make my final judgment.” Zeke nods several times to himself. “This place… is depressing as all hell.”

“You can say that again!” Pandoria is nodding just as vigorously, in perfect tandem with Zeke.

“There’s a rich history buried in the ruins of Temperantia,” Mòrag says. “As you no doubt should be aware of by now, what with the recent incident involving Aeshma.”

“It boggles the mind! But _this_ mind can’t be changed— Aeshma is ugly as sin,” Zeke says, still nodding.

“Why do you care so much about that?” Brighid sighs.

“Because!” He raises an arm, pointing to the sky. Pandoria does the same. “That Titan, and this Titan beneath us, and all the other Titans in our world used to be Blades! Now _that’s_ a real mindblower. You can’t say you two haven’t been thinking about it either.”

Ah, yes, those shocking revelations. Maybe they have been thinking about it, but also… they haven’t. Because there’s more than enough to stress about as is, and the idea that Blades becoming Titans was maybe the least surprising thing to learn about from Jin's little speech and the Architect’s winded spiel. Blades turning into Titans just made sense, somehow, when the grand scope of things was taken into consideration.

The world sure is an interesting place.

“What kind of Blades do you think they were?” Zeke muses out loud, rubbing his chin. “D’you suppose they were just as ugly back then as they are now?”

“No way,” Pandoria shakes her head. “I bet they were totally hot.”

“What! Why would you say that!”

“I dunno, it’s just a gut feeling. Like when you know which mushrooms not to eat just from looking at them. Aeshma was _definitely_ a grade-A hottie.”

Mòrag squints at Aeshma, slightly frowning. Oh, no, she’s being drawn into the conversation. Brighid wants to tell her that they should return to the garrison before the sun sets, and that they should get a headstart and leave right this instant before Pandoria or Zeke can get another word out, but she already knows its futile. Because Mòrag is like that, and Brighid wouldn’t actually have the heart to put a stopper to her passion.

As eccentric and inconvenient as her passions can be, at times.

“They must have been noble Blades, no doubt. I don’t believe just any sort of common Blade would be able to become a Titan.” Then, before Brighid can leave back down the way they came from or jump into the ravine, Mòrag gestures to her. “Take Brighid, for example. An exemplary Blade such as herself would one day surely become the most magnificent Titan to have ever walked amongst the clouds.”

“Lady Mòrag. I’d rather not think about—“

“Yeah, well, I bet Pandy would become an even cooler Titan!”

“Whoa, don’t drag me into this.”

Too late. Mòrag sweeps her arm out in a dramatic gesture, chin held high. “Might I remind you that Brighid is one of the most powerful Blades in Alrest? Nothing could possibly stand up to her Titan form!”

In any other circumstances, Brighid would be utterly flattered that Lady Mòrag is leaping to sing such high praises for her. She could blush, even. But when she’s talking about _what kind of Titan she would turn into_ which she definitely doesn’t want to be thinking about _especially when they were just talking about how ugly Aeshma is_ — her pride and dignity can only take so much.

“Hey, Pandoria. What sorta Titan do you figure you’re gonna turn into?” Zeke turns to her, fists clenched in his excitement. “One that’s definitely cooler than Titan-Brighid, right?!”

“How should I know?!”

“What happened to your gut instinct?!”

Mòrag adjusts her collar with both hands, apparently satisfied. “Hmph. It seems as though we remain uncontested. A flawless victory, no doubt. Right, Brighid?”

Brighid… is still very seriously considering jumping into the ravine. She’s close enough to grab Mòrag and drag her along, too. Very dryly, and sarcastically, but still with a hint of weary fondness, she replies: “Excellent form as always, Lady Mòrag.” Which pleases her, evidently. If Mòrag were a bird, she would probably be preening her feathers right about now.

“Hold on, we’re not out of the race yet!” Zeke frantically waves his hands in the air, palms shaping out… something, maybe a ball-shaped thing. “I’m thinking… Pandy’s Titan form would be a big bigger than Genbu… with an impenetrable shell that even the most powerful ether blasts can’t pierce through…and cannons—! That’s exactly it! She’ll have her own built-in cannons, alongside a dozen legs!”

“Wait, why do I have a dozen legs?! I don’t want a dozen legs! What am I, a weird kind of spider?!”

Mòrag folds her arms, appearing decidedly smug now for some reason. “Your visions are lacking, Zeke. Such a creature wouldn’t pose a threat even to the smallest carrier Titan.”

“Who are you calling a creature, Mòrag?!”

Alas, Pandoria’s outcries continue to go unnoticed. She shoots a helpless glance to Brighid, who only shrugs, unable to stop her own Driver from continuing onward.

“The Jewel of Mor Ardain would have no need for such lackluster defenses or an excess of limbs! I imagine her Titan form would be born in the visage of Mor Ardain’s mighty silhouette.”

Brighid tries not to open her eyes. “ _Excuse me._ ”

“Hm, you've got me intrigued. Go on,” Zeke says.

“It only makes sense, does it not? As a Blade born from Mor Ardain… well, it would certainly be preferable over the likes of Archelon or Aeshma,” Mòrag closes her eyes, apparently lost in her thoughts and now directly addressing Brighid. “You would be far more vivacious than the Ardainian Titan, certainly. Perhaps you would have a moist climate? With luscious forests, and bountiful tracts of land—“

“Lady Mòrag. I’m going to stop you right there, before you pick more questionable words to describe my hypothetical Titan form.”

Oh, now Mòrag is actually pausing. For a single, glorious moment, it’s just the two of them gazing at each other, side by side, fingers daring to brush against each other. “You… would be the most stunning beauty in _any_ incarnation, Brighid. That is what I truly believe.”

“Lady Mòrag…”

“I apologize, if I was unable to convey that well.”

Once again, Brighid is violently reminded of how much she completely adores this woman. This awkward, passionate, wonderful, clever, thick-headed woman who would do anything for her. Something in her chest flutters, and her hand finds its way to secure itself against Mòrag’s, fingers intertwined. Brighid opens her mouth to speak.

But then Zeke blurts out, with impeccable timing, “—Titan-Pandy would have _two dozen legs!_ ”

“Adding more legs just makes it worse!! Stop adding legs!” Pandoria wails.

* * *

Later that evening, as they’re gathered around a campfire for dinner that some Ardainian soldiers from the garrison had left burning, Zeke stares very intently at Azurda across the flames. He slowly chews his food, scrutinizing him. Only Azurda takes notice, as the others are too engrossed in their own conversations.

“Er… can I help you, Zeke?”

“Pandy,” Zeke nudges her with his elbow. “I’m curious. What does that mushroom-eating gut instinct tell you about Azurda?”

“Oh, him? Hmmm… I bet he was an ugly Blade. Like Aeshma, but person-sized.”

“Haha! Now _that’s_ a hellish sort of imagery.”

“H-Huh?!”

**Author's Note:**

> ty woofemus for the inspo for morag's horrible dialogue xoxo


End file.
